


If I Had To

by irorn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6429349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irorn/pseuds/irorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you doing here so early,” Stiles asks a bit warily as he turns down the stereo, “the place doesn’t open for another three hours.”</p><p>Derek walks his way to the stage keeping eye contact with Stiles the whole time. “Dance with me?”</p><p>“Dance with you,” Stiles repeats and looks at Derek with a raised eyebrow, “I don’t think…we’d be a good mixture handsome.” He says as he watches Derek get to the stage and then hoists himself onto the stage as well. “Ballet is too technical for my taste.”</p><p>“Stiles, dance with me,” Derek repeats and holds a hand out for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Had To

**Author's Note:**

> prompt me on Tumblr irorn

He arrived at the studio fifteen minutes before registration was scheduled to start. Finding a bench to sit on was simple enough, with only a few early birds like him dotting the hallway. Together in their separate parts of the hallway, they stared at the closed studio room door, willing it to open and admit them. Derek, for his part, was looking forward to the end of what was shaping up to be a long morning and would be longer still. After Laura had informed him of the audition, this audition, that she’d wanted him to attend, Laura had made it her personal duty to ensure Derek be made aware of everything that he absolutely _had_ to check before the day of. Did he check the studio’s dress code? Had he researched each esteemed dancer who would be overseeing the audition? Had he done his homework and tried to figure out who his competitors were? Yes, yes, and yes.

To Laura, dance was always a competition of skill. But as Derek surveyed the other dancers trickling into the hallway, all he saw was enthusiasm and a bit of nerves, not fierce, cutthroat warriors ready to kill over the chance of entering the competition. Bubbling with energy, they poured into the studio as the registration team allowed them entry. Derek followed them silently, absorbing their excitement and hoping some of it would rub off on him. It didn’t, of course; not as he handed over twenty bills, not as he filled out his card with mechanical numbness, not as he pinned the number fourteen to the front of his shirt. He began stretching alone, nodding in acknowledgement when one of the dancers would direct a smile his way. As much as he hated this, there was no sense in antagonizing any of the other dancers. Still, he doubted his aura invited companionship. Despite the friendly smiles flashed his way, despite his recognition of the other men and women’s existences, he remained a solitary figure, a little distance away from the others. He sighed. That probably wouldn’t help things—no one liked a lone wolf.

“Good morning,” someone said brightly from the front of the room. The auditionees murmured polite greetings back, stopping their exercises. A slim older woman stood at the front of the room, clutching a clipboard to her chest. “Welcome to the Ballet Magisterium auditions for Madame Ceré’s Worldwide Competition. We’ll begin with a class, then move onto presenting your piece. Thank you for participating in this event.”

The classes started then and Derek lingered in the front of the room as he stretched. He was relatively comfortable with his placement, and was just trying to focus on his stretching technique. When the warm-up classes started and finished, Derek and everyone who wasn’t the first person to audition left the room. Derek waited his time in the hall, and made conversation with a few other auditionees. Surprisingly, to him at least, multiple people recognized him from his videos and the competitions he’s been to. They had even asked for pointers, and Derek would just give some generic answer of making sure your posture and technique were perfect. He was a good sport, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want them to do better than him. When it was finally his turn, Derek found himself in the middle of the studio as the judges got their things ready.

“And...cue music,” one of the male judges said in a monotone type voice.

He starts off with sharp movements and gradually becomes more relaxed with his lines and foot placements. For the next six eight counts it was dedicated to illusions and fouettes, and then transitioned into the beautiful sharp clean motions he always does. When he finishes he’s panting and does his ending steps downstage as the music fades out. Derek nods slightly then and moves back to his starting spot, as his eyes scanned over the judges. There are six of them, and half of them are engrossed with their scorings, while the rest were looking at him. Holly gives her critics first and then the rest follow after her lead. They all complement his technique and lines, but they tell him he needs to put more emotion and face into the art. Derek only can nod a bit hesitantly as he fiddles with a loose string on the back of his shirt. He gets four out of six yeses, and sighed relieved when they handed him two tickets. Before he could even ask why he received two Quintinn, on of the judges, explained it for him.

“All of the people who go through are required to have a partner. You’ll find this partner for yourself, so choose wisely. This partner could be your key to success, or your omen of failure.”

He made his escape then from the awkward goodbyes and began walking. Right when he was about to step off the sidewalk and cross to the other side of the road, Laura’s car pulled in front of him. Derek rolled her eyes as she quoted Mean Girls, but got in the car anyways. Laura asks questions from a mile per minute which would be overwhelming from anyone else, but mostly just relaxing for Derek. He explained everything thoroughly knowing his sister wanted to know everything from the moment he stepped into the place.

“A partner? Like an actual person you’ll have to _socialise_ and _dance_ with?” Laura asked almost in hysterics as she turned into the nearest Panda Express.

“Yes Laura, that’s what a dance partner is,” Derek says and unbuckles his seatbelt so he could get out. He closes the door behind him, and then hears Laura doing the same. Footsteps chase after his own, and Derek slows down enough for Laura to catch up. When they get inside they get in line to get their bowls before taking a seat. Laura went on to talk about her day at the studio, and all of the new art pieces that have come in. How she is really excited for giving people the tour on everything especially beautiful. Derek listens intently and grunts every few seconds to let her know he was paying attention.

"Jennifer came by today," Laura said, picking up a piece of orange chicken with her fork. "She was looking for you. She said she wanted to tell you something _really_ important, but I told her to come back tomorrow because you were busy with the auditions."

"Okay." Derek nodded, grabbing the small blue plastic tray and started cleaning the small mess from the table. Laura sighed, a defeated expression crossed her face. She sat down in one of the small plastic chairs that were facing him. She didn't look too happy.

She let out a sarcastic laugh. " _Okay_? That's it? That's all you're gonna say?"

Derek glanced at her while I wiping away the sauce and rice that scattered on the table in front of him. "Well, what did you expect me to say?"

She simply shrugged. "I don't know, maybe at least acknowledge the poor girl? She's been visiting you like every single day, and _you_ keep avoiding her like the plague."

“Cause I don’t like her. She’s clingy and doesn’t really use the right pronoun for me,” Derek says and steals a sip of lemonade, “Besides, I’m almost positive she tried getting rid of my ballet shoes once.”

“Cause your ballet shoes at the time were  in terrible shape. She was just—”

“Can we please not talk about this?”

Derek stared at her for a few seconds as the silence washed over them. A part of him knew that she was only trying to help. Then the other part of Derek is disappointed in himself that his sister was still taking care of him. Cause truth be told, he wouldn’t make it all alone. He’d thought he could survive without his overbearing, smothering, wonderful family, but obviously he was wrong. So if he apologizes sullenly afterwards, it’s just cause his conscious told him to. When they decide to finally leave, they hug before going their separate ways. Laura to the nursing home to help her patience, and Derek back to dance.

Derek dances at the studio Saturday mornings, Thursday mornings before coffee with Laura, Tuesday nights, and Monday. This was his new routine, grab some breakfast with Laura and call his mom, grab his things and walk to the small studio by the beach behind the bookstore, the ocean breeze waking him up, feeling his nostrils with the fresh aroma of salt and summer, the sun blazing on the horizon illuminating the sky and reflecting through the windows of the studio, to shine on the dance floor. It’s a nice studio. The floors had gotten redone a year ago, and every time Derek danced on it he felt like he was in heaven. He’s dancing when the doors open and Erica stumbled her way in with Isacc following after her.

“Laura told us you nailed the auditions!” She yells causing Derek to trip out of a turn, and turn to them with wide eyes. “This causes for a celebration of great magnitude! Alcohol, food, snack, and carbs! Derek, this occasion demands for you to get off that wack ass dancer diet of yours!”

“I’d rather not,” he snorts a bit before wiping his sweat off with his forearm, and taking a long drink of water.

“Well to bad,” Isaac says smirking, “we found a place that’s going to make you get loose man. The lady insists.”

  
“The _lady_ is delusional.”

“The lady is still very present,” Erica says giving both of them looks, “and like Isaac said, to bad Der. We’re going and you’re going to have a fantastic time. Hell, you might even find a partner.”

✖️

Derek is sat at the cabaret all alone at the bar. He had got there at the set time that they all planned, and yet neither Erica or Isaac were present. Derek was tempted to leave, if it weren’t for the fact that people kept sliding him free drinks.

“What’s your type?” A red head said, resting her free hand on her cocked hip, bringing Derek’s attention to her waist, the curve of her hip and how it flowed seamlessly into her thigh and further down into her  leg. Derek internally sighed and gave an unamused look and looked back up to her face and with a fake apologetic smile.

“My height, toned, and no ovaries.”

Derek noticed how she deflated a bit, the slight slump of her exposed shoulder and dimming of the wicked light in her eyes. She gave him a nod, turned on her heel and walked away with a teasing sway in her hips, hair and other bits bouncing with every step that she took. Derek waited, his leg bouncing under the table as he fiddled with his phone, wondering if he should shoot a text to Isaac telling him that he was lost and was waiting on directions or go with a lie, something generic like ‘ _I’m stuck in traffic_ ’ just so he could sneak back to the comfort of his apartment. Before he could decide the room went completely dark and the music that had been a constant background noise shifted to the beginnings of something sultrier, the lights on the stage came to life and centered on a single spot where a perfectly sculpted body sauntered over clad in only a pair of dark fitted pants.

From where Derek was sitting, they looked amazing, hugging toned thighs and emphasizing an ass that Derek was sure he could bounce a quarter off of if given the chance. It was a miracle that Derek was able to tear his eyes away from his ass, thighs, arms, and back to notice that the perfect male specimen that was moving along with the beat of the music had a dark brown hair and serious set of beautiful amber eyes that reflected beautifully in the spotlight. He would have thought that the scattered moles on his body would put him off but it only added to the man’s appeal.

The music picked up as the vocals started and the man’s hips swayed in time with the rhythm that poured out of the speakers; popping his hips from side to side when the song that was playing demanded as such, followed by fast and lascivious gyrations of said hips. The dancer then took a few steps back and pressed up against the pole that Derek had all but forgotten. He dipped low and rose up slowly, his hips circling slowly as he brought himself back up. He dropped himself again with the added difference of going to drop to his knees, leaning back and slowly thrusting the empty space in front of him, his hands trailing from his chest to the sinfully low rise of his pants. He played a little with the treasure trail Derek was sure was there, even if he couldn’t clearly see it. His hand slipped under the waistband of his pants and he threw his head back and what Derek could only identify as euphoria.

In that moment, Derek thought he understood the appeal of strip clubs; it wasn’t so much the girls, and in this case guy, who walked around in the skimpiest outfits or outright naked though that certainly played a major part, but it was seeing them give themselves over completely to what they were doing up on the stage, dancing to entice lust and fuel fantasies. Both of which were happening to Derek at the moment.

Money, money could also play a part in it. Said a voice in the back of his head as he continued to watch the dancer on the stage.

He was still on his knees and working his hips to the beat of the song that played in the background, the button and zipper of his pants were undone and Derek was barely able to make out the elastic of his underwear. He shimmied as he stood back up and worked his muscular legs out of his pants and the sight was enough to convince Derek that he was having a religious experience. The underwear were the filthiest piece of clothing Derek had ever seen, not because they were soiled, but because they looked like they had been painted on the dancer. And he would believe they had been if not for the impressive and mouthwatering bulge clad in fiery red with a black trim. But that was nothing compared to the feeling that surged through him when the nameless dancer took hold of the pole and pulled himself up and wrapped his legs around it when he was halfway off the ground and leaned away until his torso was upside down.

It took all the mental capacity Derek had to will away the hard-on that was making his jeans feel too tight; something that proved to be a continuous battle as he watched the dark haired man swirl, climb, drop and thrusts against the chrome bar. His legs were far apart and he was thrusting his hips in a way that could be interpreted as him fucking up into someone or him fucking himself down on someone and it was too much. He had wanted to wait until the dancers switched not because he was afraid someone would notice how much the male dancer had affected him but because he wanted to catch the ending. He was morbidly curious as to how the guy was going to finish his performance. He wondered if he was going to twirl around the pole again, drop and pop his hips with his back towards his spectators so that everyone could see how his ass bounced or maybe grind against the stage floor or against the pole.

Instead, Derek watched as the dancer took long strides in front of the pole, just to do beautiful turns and then finishes with a fantastic fouette to a crouch before springing out onto his ass, and arching his back to the stage. Derek stood their with his cheeks flushed and the wind knocked out of him. If he was a cartoon character his jaw would be on the ground. He watches as the dancer stand and twinkle his fingers as he made his way backstage.

Derek needed to leave. No, he needed to ask the dancer to dance for him, and with him. He didn’t know which one he wanted to come first.

“Derek!”

He slowly turns to face the voice, and looks at Erica and Isaac who finally decided to finally grace him with their presence. Right when he was about to leave. Erica is the one to explain why they were late, but Isaac is the one to give the half hearted apology. Derek doesn’t really listen to them, especially as he sees those same amber eyes making their way into the crowd with a satin robe on now. Now that he’s a bit closer he can see the eyeliner in the guys face as well, and in all honesty it makes Derek even more mesmerised. He stares openly, ignoring both Erica and Isaac, and when amber eyes meet his own Derek is stuck. The man kept eye contact with Derek the whole time, and winked before turning to get another drink from the other bar. Derek watched him even then, and when he turned back he looked at Derek with a raised eyebrow. Derek bit his bottom lip and looked over the smooth slightly tanned skin, before the tips of his ears heated up and then looks away.

“...Well I’m going to— there’s a hot guy coming this way,” Isaac says to Derek, given the fact that Erica was already off dancing with someone, leaving the two of them to themselves. “And he’s looking at you so I’m going to…” He makes a leaving motion over his shoulder, before sauntering off into Erica’s direction.

Derek looks at Isaac with wide panicked eyes, before turning to face the guy who was grinning at him. Derek just wished there was a name tag somewhere on the silky robe. He needed a name for this beautiful dancer. He needed to know where he learned how to dance so fluidly. He needed to know if he’d be his partner, and he needed another viewing of that damn show. Derek needed a lot of things.

The guy looks over Derek and then sighed appreciatively before circling around him, and then stopping in front of him again. Derek watched him with flushed cheeks and a slightly gaped mouth as he tried to mentally take the robe off of the lean hard body. Derek was trying to keep his eyes on the dancer’s but as the guy neared closer he couldn't help it.

“I love a good show, don’t you?” The guy says, his eyes taking in every inch of Derek. He puts one hand on Derek’s shoulder and one hand around the back of his head, pulling him closer so they could be chest to chest, pushing his way into Derek’s space.

“Who doesn’t?” Derek responds, breathing in deeply, “I’m Derek.”

“Stiles.”

“Stiles?”

“Stiles,” the guy says with a small smirk. “It’s a nickname.” Stiles’ hands travel over Derek’s shoulders and along his torso before pulling away and letting his hands drop to his side. He takes a step back and smiles when Derek steps forward. “Wanna dance handsome?”

“Dance?” Derek breaths out again and hesitates before he rests his hand high on Stiles waist, not to be too disrespectful. It shouldn’t matter though if he’s being honest. They’re in the equivilant to a fancy strip club, and he had just watched the man do the best pole dancing in the history of pole dancing. Maybe a little filth was acceptable.

“Are you just going to repeat every word I say, or actually give some input?” Stiles says as he puts both arms around Derek now. Derek shivered at the feeling of them being so close now, and Stiles grinned smugly before tilting his head. “And before you answer that, I thinks it would be fair for me to tell you that I don’t do lap dances or those private room sessions.”

“So what’s this then,” Derek asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s me being a tease,” he says easily and runs his fingers through Derek’s hair, “And it’s me trying to get you to come back. It’s kind of rare for attractive people around my age to come into a cabaret. Let alone ones that don’t seem like assholes. And hey, maybe you will get a dance one of your visits.”

“Visits?”

“You're doing it again.”

“Shit, sorry, uh, I mean you think I'm coming back?”

“How else are you going to get that dance big guy?” Stiles teases with a big smirk as he fully pulls away and heads back to the stage.

“Already expecting me to come back? I think that’s a sign of overconfidence,” Derek teases, but he’s already thinking of ways to come back here. He’ll get those dances even if it kills him.

✖️

Derek comes back to next day. He tries to be there on the same time he was before, and luckily for him Stiles was performing at the same time. This dance was softer and sexier than the one from yesterday. His hips move slower, and there isn’t a pole behind him this time. Instead, it’s just Stiles in tight black jeans that looked painted on. He’s shirtless, and on his body are scattered kiss marks that have been smudged.

_‘Loving you is really all that's on my mind And I can't help but to think about it day and night_

_I wanna make that body rock, sit back and watch Tonight I'm gonna dance for you’_

The dance is more slow hip-hop if anything, and the moves are simple but also really perfect. Derek watches with flushed cheeks, and he isn’t imagining it when his and Stiles’ eyes meet and the dancer winks at him.

✖️

This is Derek’s ninth time at the cabaret, and then four more times the next week. After every visit he’d haul himself into the studio for a solid three hours, just picturing all the beauty Stiles would put into their dance. He’d envision all the turns, the flare, and the all together beauty that they would create on the dance floor. On the third visit he brought up ballet, and Stiles had nearly fell off Derek’s lap where he was mouthing lyrics to some soultree 1980’s song. When the man had recovered, he gave Derek the strangest look before ignoring the question and going back to the practiced routine. On the fifth visit Derek brings it up again and keeps bringing it up until Stiles has to pay attention to him. Derek had already choreographed their dance, and all he needed now was his partner. Stiles had declined the offer wit slight hesitance as he continued moving his hips skillfully against Derek’s thigh. However, now is almost the deadline to confirm all partnership to the contest, and Stiles still hadn’t said yes.

So now he’s desperate. Derek is at the cabaret before it’s even open, and walks through the doors. He’s about to call out Stiles’ name wondering if the man was even there at this time. He stops short though when he sees Stiles doing a contemporary piece on the stage to ‘ _Hallelujah_ ’.

Derek watched with parted lips and a slightly dazed expression.  He loved this. He loved watching Stiles dance like this, probably even more than he liked him dancing on the pole. He liked all the turns and the tricks, yeah some of the movements were sloppy, but still. Derek leans against the bar as he watches Stiles do a series of turns with beautiful arm movements, before the music fades into the air. When it’s all silent except for Stiles’ breathing, Derek stands straight and applauds. Stiles snaps his head up then and looks at him wide eyed before blushing a bit.

“What are you doing here so early,” Stiles asks a bit warily as he turns down the stereo, “the place doesn’t open for another three hours.”

Derek walks his way to the stage keeping eye contact with Stiles the whole time. “Dance with me?”

“Dance with you,” Stiles repeats and looks at Derek with a raised eyebrow, “I don’t think...we’d be a good mixture handsome.” He says as he watches Derek get to the stage and then hoists himself onto the stage as well. “Ballet is too technical for my taste.”

“Stiles, dance with me,” Derek repeats and holds a hand out for him. Stiles looks at it for a few seconds before sighing and starting to walk off the stage. Derek frowns and slides in front of Stiles, and takes the remote to play the music again.

_‘My lover's got humour She's the giggle at a funeral_

_Knows everybody's disapproval I should've worshipped her sooner’_

Stiles is about to say something in protest, but stops when Derek’s arms are around him taking the lead. Stiles sees the challenge, and breathes out before taking a step forward with the music. The smile on Derek’s face grows and it makes Stiles insides tingle, but doesn’t think about it as he wraps his left leg around Derek’s left, and lifts his right high in the air. He lets out a breath, and hops to his feet again when Derek loosens his grip a bit. They dance together and separately at the same time. It wasn’t anything technical or anything remotely in as high of collabore of what either of them could actually do with practice and time. However, it was free and beautiful, and it caused them both to be buzzed with immense energy.

_‘Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life’_

Every fouette Stiles did, Derek was there to guide it and then pull him in for another. And every lift Derek wanted to do Stiles was there on time for it. They complimented one another, and Stiles only realised it once they were circling each other with Derek’s hand on his hips, and his arm circled around his neck. Stiles is panting, and he doesn’t know what to do about any of this. His eyes search the floor for answers and he can feel his heartbeat quicken as they stop moving. He’s on the verge of spewing a load of word vomit, before Derek was tilting his chin up and saying the words ‘Dance with me’.

After that it was kind of easy persuading Stiles to give in already. Derek was so close, but Stiles, he still wasn’t that keen of just trusting people that easily, people that flirt with him and in general want him. Because working where he does it could always mean more about objectifying him than actually liking him. He doesn't really know if Derek is for real or if it’s just the image of a pretty cabaret dancing that is basically a fantasy of many but not something they wanna make a reality. So he is a bit wary of Derek, even if there is a lot of banter and sexual tension between them he still tries keeping Derek at an arm's length.

So the next few days he takes off of work and meets Derek at the studio, Stiles is a bit hesitant in all of the dancing they do. It’s choreographed and Stiles is having trouble staying to the exact steps Derek had planned for him. It’s hard, and Derek isn’t really being perfect either. He’s to stiff and demanding, and Stiles is going to scream.

“Why couldn’t you just get someone who can actually do this stuff? I can’t do this Derek,” Stiles says after the second practice with a defeated expression, and exhausted eyes. He slouches against the mirror, and took the bottle of water that was rested next to him. “This sucks.”

Derek’s equally as frustrated, but it’s a mix of frustration with himself, and Stiles. It’s not happening as smoothly as he pictured it to. It was supposed to come easy for them and just click. They were suppose to be done learning the first part, and just doing finishing touches before going to the next. Instead, they were struggling with a lift and their lines. Stiles was angry, and Derek was exasperated.

“Maybe we should—”

“No!” The words burst out of Stiles before he could stop himself, “I wanna go home, I want to ice and be left the fuck alone, and I don’t want to be in this studio doing moves that I don’t even want to be doing, it’s not what I do, it doesn’t even look like something _you_ do! Okay?”

Derek stops for a few seconds before nodding, “Okay.”

Stiles looks up at Derek then with furrowed eyebrows, “Just...okay? You’re not going to go all drill sergeant on me and force me to get my shit together? It’s very uncharacteristic of you.”

“If I did that I’d be out an amazing partner. Besides, you’re kind of right. These moves aren’t your style, and I’m having a hard time cause we’re not fitting. We just need to start over...but take a well deserved break first.”

✖️✖️✖️✖️

The first week of the live shows they do a hip-hop routine to Formation by Beyonce

✖️

After weeks of hard work and competitions every other Tuesdays, Stiles and Derek were at the top of the

rosters. Every dance they did was widely viewed and grandly accepted by the judges who seemed to adore Stiles’ style. They even liked the concept of their cabaret themed dance once they told Stiles story. Also during those weeks, Stiles had seemed to open up to Derek. He wasn’t as hesitant as before, and he didn’t freeze up every time their flirting crossed the line of banter and something real. They proceeded to the live rounds on television, and Stiles had almost bailed on Derek from all the pressure that rested on his shoulders. That week the dancing was a struggle and everything just seemed to be falling apart. It was like the first week all over again, and Stiles was purposely being difficult towards his partner. He even went as far as almost storming out of the shows fancy studio, but then that was also the day he and Derek kissed for the first time.

Stiles remembers that day, and is reminded of it everytime he gets frustrated. Which is part of the reason why he’s smiling softly as he continued to mess up a turn. Derek’s trying his best to help him, but Stiles’ brain is too filled with emotion that he can’t really focus. Derek’s furrowing his eyebrows in concentration and he just looks so jaw dropping, and it was distracting. Stiles eyes would linger over his focused eyes and then down to his pouty lips before he gave in and kissed him. It caused their steps to go off, and Derek to let out a surprised sound at the sudden change. Stiles just held him close though, and kissed him deeper as soon as Derek started reciprocating. They regained their balance and Stiles took the opportunity to jump up and wrap his legs around Derek’s waist.

Derek had kissed back eagerly and gripped Stiles tightly as his boyfriend wrapped his legs around him. He felt almost like he was in a trance, and once they pulled away he kept close resting their foreheads together. “What was that for?”

Stiles’ shoulder lifted slightly and then dropped as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck as well, “You’re really hot. Especially when you overthink things.”

Derek rolled his eyes but looked like he was in agreement with Stiles as he carried them over to the rug area so they could lay down. He kneels down with Stiles still attached to him and snorted as Stiles shimmied of of him and to his back. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Me? You look like you should never leave the pages of a finely airbrushed Playboy magazine.” He replied and tilted his head a bit so he could look at Derek. “...which has always kind of blew my mind to be honest. Cause I mean, I know I must be some types of attractive but you, you’re like a greek god over here compared to my authentic twinkness. So why?”

“ _Twinkness_?”

“Shut it, and answer the question.”

“I don’t think I can do both at the **—”**

“Hale, I swear if you’re going to be difficult with me I’ll punch your cute bunny teeth out.”

Derek snorted so hard his head started to hurt for a few seconds. He might need Advil later on. He looks over Stiles’ appreciatively and bites his lip before he’s answering. “Because you’re just my type. Smart, snarky, and caring.” Derek’s mouth stretched a little at the corners. “And you’re insufferable and mouthy and obnoxious, but you’re also a genius and there’s something about you that’s so beautiful sometimes it makes me want to weep.”  
  
Stiles felt his throat go tight as he leant up and touched the side of Derek’s face. “Are all dancers such poets?”   
  
Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ hand. “Not all of us. Just the good ones. Let’s go again.”

✖️

They dance to _My Funny Valentine_ by Ella Fitzgerald, the next week.

✖️

And that's it. That's all the dances for this year’s competition. The hard works is not quite over yet though. Naturally, they dragged out the results to be as excruciatingly melodramatic as possible. Stiles nearly went ballistic three times just standing there watching everyone. Luckily they weren’t that cruel, and both Stiles and Derek were thankful to hear. Lucy and Navin came in fourth place, which was about what everyone expected. They clearly become close friends to all the fellow dancers and they had a lot of talent, but skill wise, they were the weakest.

Then here's where it's getting harder to predict. Gray and Silvia was next, in third place. Both of them were amazing dancers, but Stiles guesses their pole dance didn't carry them all the way to the top spot. So that just leaves Erza and Natsu, and Stiles and Derek. People would call Stiles and Derek the dark horse of the competition. They had the least formal training, but both of their technique was above and beyond almost everyone’s. In front of their eyes and Stiles infectious energy and Derek’s smolder, their supporters faith never faltered for even a second.

Erza and Natsu is the opposite in some ways, having near perfect technique in many styles to begin with, and with a focus and intensity nobody even comes close to matching. They've both earned the title ten times over, but only one person can be crowned as the favourite dancers. And it was Stiles and Derek! They run to get their check and their full paid scholarship to Madame Ceré’s School of Arts.

It's all finished now, this magical experience of the _Ballet Magisterium for Madame Ceré’s Worldwide Competition_ is over. Looking back on the competition as a whole, all of the contestants have changed, and for the better, because they all got to meet and dance together. What happens next is anyone's guess but nobody who was part of this season will go back to being who they used to be. So Stiles guesses the adventure never ends.

✖️

“Never. Again.” Derek groaned from his spot between the floor and the far wall. Stiles lay dazed in the middle of the room, letting out a keening noise that may have been one of agreement. “Crazy fun when it happened, but not one that bears repeating.”

Derek had to nearly shout to be heard over the music – _Lovefool_ by The Cardigans – while Stiles dazedly waved an arm in his direction. Derek wondered if maybe they should have checked to see if the wood flooring had been waxed recently before attempting the failed endeavor.

Dancing sex: crazy good fun at the time, but dangerous if done on a waxed floor.

✖️

Stiles wiggles his way closer to Derek, slides his hands up Derek’s bare chest before clasping them at the back of his neck, he hums softly, “morning, babe.” he yawns and admires the natural light in the room before he's kissing Derek’s chest.

Derek brushes his knuckles up Stiles’ sides, smiling as Stiles giggles, “This looks familiar.” Derek slides his hands around to Stiles’ back down to cup his ass in the wide palms of his hands. “How’re you feeling?” Derek asks, smoothing his thumbs along where Stiles’ back meets ass.  
  
Stiles hums again, placing a kiss to Derek's sternum, before leaning his forehead against Derek’s collarbone, “A little sore from dancing and then sex.”

Derek slides his hands under Stiles’ t-shirt, cupping his bare flesh. He gently sneaks his fingertips between the crack of Stiles’ ass and rubs the pad of his middle finger against his hole. He makes a sympathetic noise as Stiles sighs. “’M sorry,” he murmurs.

Stiles looks up and placing a light kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth. “You’re really not,” he chuckles, “but it's okay, I’m not either.”

Derek laughs before bringing one hand up to gasp Stiles’ chin. He guides Stiles’ mouth back to his own, placing three gentle kisses in quick succession. “I’m sorry you’re sore, even if you’re not sorry,” he says against Stiles’ lips as he brings his hand back down to cup his ass. He slides his hands down lower, towards Stiles’ inner thighs, moving him closer and basically on top of him. Stiles sighed contently as he wraps his legs around Derek's hips, thighs squeezing tightly.  
  
“I love you,” he whispers against Derek’s mouth. Derek smiles and whispers it back, before kissing him again. Derek crowds in closer, smoothing his hands up and down the back of Stiles’ thighs. Stiles ducking his head to press his lips to Derek's collarbone. He places a few gentle kisses as he brings his hands up to grasp Derek's hair; he seals his lips around the skin, sucking gently.

Derek groans, bringing one of his own hands to wind his fingers in the short hairs at the back of Stiles’ head. He tugs gently, pulling Stiles away from his neck and back to his lips. He instantly slides his tongue into Stiles’ mouth, pulling him closer. Stiles tightens his legs around Derek's waist and groans as Derek just takes over his mouth, his sense. Derek bites down on Stiles’ bottom lip, tugging as he pulls back, before releasing the reddened skin.  
  
Derek smiles, smoothing his thumb against the abused flesh and then strokes the sharp jut of Stiles’ cheekbone, “So beautiful.” He mumbled as Stiles moved the straddle his thighs. Derek's hand rests on the side of his neck and pulls him closer as Stiles started grinding his hips in a slow sweet torture. The friction was nice for both of them, and the sight of Stiles was enough to have Derek becoming halfway on edge already. It doesn’t take them long to adjust to Derek finally getting inside of Stiles. Stiles himself was already stretched enough from last night, and Derek has always been patient with his Stiles. Speaking of which, with his hands on Derek’s chest for leverage Stiles circled his hips slowly with small whines and pants leaving his mouth. His hair was falling in his eyes, and his hips would stutter or jump every few seconds as he tried to perfect a solid figure eight motion. Derek’s a mess as he thrust his hips up to meet Stiles in every movement. His hands traveled everywhere starting from Stiles’ thighs and then ending on his neck, to pull him down for a kiss. Time passed and the room has been reduced to wet sounds, moans, and pleads for ‘ _more_ ’. Derek had ended up flipping them around, with one of Stiles’ legs lifted on his shoulder and the other hooked in his arm. Stiles found it really barbaric but hot as hell nonetheless. It doesn’t take much after that for either of them to paint each other's chest with lines of come. Derek was first and only seconds later Stiles was following.

Stiles laid their boneless and panted softly as he ran his fingers through his hair. The sweaty brown strands being pushed back giving it a greasy look that had Derek melting a bit. They were spent, and Derek couldn’t help but to kiss his boyfriend as he looked so dazed. Stiles hisses feeling extremely sensitive as Derek pulled out. He can feel the faint feeling of come dripping out of him and shivers, willing himself not to get hard again.

“I’m so glad Erica forced me to go out that night,” Derek says against Stiles lips and then down his neck to his collarbones. “If I hadn’t I would be out an amazing dance partner.”

“You’re going to give me cavities with all this sweetness Der,” Stiles teases even though he’s blushing and avoiding eye contact.

“I thought people loved it when their significant brought up nostalgic events?” Derek teases right back with a smirk as he reached for his abandoned shirt using it to clean Stiles and himself off. “Don’t tell me you’re not a victim of nostalgia?” Derek asks in mock horror

Stiles just snorts and smiles as Derek rolls them over, pulling him on his chest to cuddle. Stiles straddles him again and nuzzled his nose against his shoulder sighing. Derek’s hand splayed across his lower back and his lips kissing over his shoulder. Stiles relaxed into it all and only moved when a thought crossed his mind. “Wanna dance handsome?”

“Dance...” Derek replies after a few beats with a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.  

Stiles eyes light up a bit before his smiling against Derek’s shoulder and closing his eyes tightly, “Are you just going to repeat every word I say?” He says with a fond smile on his face. He doesn’t really know what they are going to do as of now, but Stiles is sure if it’s with Derek he’ll be fine.

 

prompt me on [Tumblr](http://irorn.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt me on Tumblr irorn


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